Play It Again
by ShatteredAngelWings
Summary: When Derek saves Chloe from Royce at a party, she's grateful. And when Simon suggests they act as a pseudo-couple to keep Rae and Royce off their backs, well, then things get complicated. Is what they're feeling real or just for show? Inspired by Play It Again. c/d s/n t/l r/r
1. Chapter 1

Play It Again

One

Weaving his way through the crowd, Derek edged towards the tiny girl sitting on the tailgate of his truck, her porcelain-pale legs swinging. Her long, strawberry-blonde hair gleamed in the light, showing off dozens of red streaks. A red solo cup rested on her jean-clad thigh.

"O-oh," she squeaked when her head turned and he saw she had most beautiful eyes. His heart thumped against his chest as he sank down next to her. "I-is this your truck? I-I could m-move if—" He raised a hand and cut her off. "It's fine," he said.

The music pounded through his ears. "I'm C-Chloe. C-Chloe Saunders." Her tiny hand was in front of his face; he debated on shaking her hand and closed his around hers lightly.

"Derek. Derek Souza."

She gave him a smile and he knew he was falling for her, hard and fast.

He studied her when she turned her head away to talk to a blonde girl in green sweatshirt. She was tiny, not very busty. She was cute, though: pretty blue eyes, long, pale eyelashes, thin eyebrows, pretty pink lips, freckles splashes across her nose. Long, shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair, streaked with cherry-red. Porcelain skin with a dusting of freckles.

_She's beautiful; _he mused absently, watching her tuck her curls behind her ear. Her earrings were little blue hearts, glittering. Derek stared down at his hands, gripping his bottle of soda. Condensation dampened his palms. He wiped them on his legs.

The sun beat down on him and he raked a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. He was sweltering. "Are you okay?" He looked over at her, Chloe. "Hey, Dog Boy!" The truck bounced viciously and Chloe yelped as her drink splashed to the ground.

Derek glowered at Tori, a low growl building in his throat. "Oh, hey, Chloe," Tori greeted the goddess. The blonde climbed out of the bed with a little bit of trouble, reminding him of a little kid almost comically when she let her legs dangle as she tried to find the ground. Once she was down, she picked up her litter.

She scampered away, holding the crushed cup in her hand. She headed to table full of drinks. "Damn it," Derek hissed to Tori. His sister nearly snickered at him. "I didn't know you had a thing for clumsy blondes," she laughed. His cheeks heated up like fire. "Shut up," he grunted.

"She's a nice girl, Derek," she said seriously, her dark, almond eyes staring at him with an intense heat. He felt beads of sweat build up on his forehead. "I noticed," he replied dryly. "I'm serious." Tori's eyes never left his and her voice left no room for joking.

"Just…be good to her."

Silence braided between them and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back. The sun warmed his sweaty face; a breeze brushed and cooled the sweat on his skin. "Is he _serious_?" snarled Tori suddenly and the truck lurched and wobbled as she jumped off the roof, landing in a crouch.

Derek opened his eyes and watched his sister weave her ways fast and furiously through the throng of teenage bodies. He followed Tori's line of direction and swore under his breath.

A dark-haired, Puerto Rican guy, flanked by a tall, lean blonde in flannel and a broad dark-haired in a leather jacket, had Chloe by the arm, talking to her fast. Chloe looked ready to cry.

Derek swung off the tailgate and made his way quickly, but quietly towards her. "L-L-Let m-me—" "There you are, hun," Derek cut in quietly, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Would you mind taking your hand off my girlfriend?" he asked in a dark voice.

The Puerto Rican guy's bared teeth didn't scare him but he let go of Chloe's arm when Derek narrowed his eyes and his lip curled in a snarl, similar to a wolf's. Chloe made a little noise and he hugged her closer to his side. "And _who _are you?" hissed the blonde boy, a Southern accent clear in his voice.

"Derek."

"Souza? Ain't your daddy Zachary Cain?" the blonde said with a menacing grin. "Ya hear that, Ramon?" The guy in the leather-jacket nodded. Derek offered a shrug.

"Don't know."

"How the hell do you _not know _if your daddy's a serial killer, boy?" the middle boy asked. Derek's brain stuttered. _Serial killer? _"Liam, Ramon, go." Liam sneered at Chloe and Ramon stared her down; they were polar opposites. They shouldered passed Derek.

"Chloe, you never told me you had a boyfriend," said the remaining boy with a sugary smile. "I never knew you were like that, Royce," Tori's voice barked out from behind them.

"Until next time, Blondie." He snapped his teeth at Chloe and Derek growled. "Better watch out, Mutt. You can't be around to protect her forever." He shoved passed Chloe, making her stumble.

Derek's hold tightened and remained that way until Royce was gone from his sight.

Silence stretched between them, slow and strained. "I-I-I—" Chloe squeaked. Derek cleared his throat and stepped away; she stood there, rubbing her arm. "Who was that?" he asked finally. She looked away.

"Was that Banks I saw?" Simon asked as he walked up behind Tori, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Yeah," the dark-haired girl responded, crossing her arms. "He come after Chloe again?" Derek's teeth nearly cracked with the force of his jaw clenching. "_Again?_" he snarled, temper flaring just like his nostrils as he drank in more air, fighting to stay calm.

"Again?" he repeated, quieter this time. "I know!" Simon cried, jumping up and scampering closer to Chloe. Derek's lip curled up at the half-Korean boy. "You could pretend to be Chloe's boyfriend, just to keep Royce off her back! And you wouldn't have to worry about Rodgers."

"R-Rae?" Chloe squawked, her eyes widening in fear. She trembled where she stood.

"Yeah." Simon gave her a sidelong glance. "She's been hounding Derek ever since he hit puberty," he explained. "S-She and I u-used to be f-f-friends," Chloe said softly, eyes lowering.

"That little bitch made Chloe's life a living hell! She dumped Chloe for Royce right after her mom died," Tori grumbled and then she froze, her expression a still of embarrassment and shock as her eyes swung towards Chloe. "It's okay," the porcelain girl whispered.

"I'll drive you home," Derek offered, his palms sweating. A trickle of moisture ran down his back.

He was grateful when she accepted his invitation.


	2. Chapter 2

Play It Again

Two

Chloe shivered as the young man with green eyes flipped through the radio, settling on rock music. "You okay?" he asked and it was on the tip of her tongue to say, _yes. _But she settled for shaking her head and rubbing at her bruised forearm.

As he drove, Chloe stared at Derek.

He was tall, his head brushing the tip of the cab, and his long legs looked a tiny bit cramped to his chest; he was way taller than her even while sitting. His long, black hair that curled slightly and fell in sheets around his face whipped around from the AC blowing in his face.

He was golden, tanned, to perfection; his cheeks were pocketed with acne scars and acne itself. He was muscular, very much so, but it wasn't bulky or ridiculous or photoshopeqsue. He looked powerful and predatory. His tight, black tanktop stretched tight against his chest and his jeans hugged his long, muscular legs.

"I don't know my dad," Derek said after switching onto the highway, his voice distant. Chloe watched him through her eyelashes. "People think I'm Zachary Cain's kid," he murmured, rolling down the window. His hair blew around his angular face as he cut off the air conditioning and hot air billowed into the cab.

"That guy, Royce, said Cain's a serial killer."

Her heart thumped viciously in her chest as she wiped her sweating palms on her hands. He didn't look at her as he shifted the stick gear and the car jerked as he switched into the right lane. A girl in a sleek car zoomed by and flipped him off. He ignored the honking that followed.

"My mom gave me up for adoption so it _could _be true," he explained further, his voice growing quieter with each word, "and I look like him, I guess. Same eyes, same body builds." _Same facial structure, _Chloe thought, watching him drive. Corded muscles packed his arms and he looked at ease, driving the mud-spattered truck.

"Tu-turn right," she told him quickly, relaxing they'd nearly passed the exit for home. He adjusted the rearview mirror and stared at his reflection. She sat there and tried not think about the man who _might _be his father. Unbidden, the image of him came to mind. He was a massive hulk of a man, with curly black hair and porcelain skin and stubble crawling up his throat like weeds.

His face was scarred but Chloe could tell the resemblance: some strong jaw, high cheeks bones, the shape of the nose, and the set of the brow bone. Except…Cain's eyes were black as ink and Derek's were green. Was that from his biological mom? Maybe he didn't have the slightest idea if Cain _might _be his father before Royce had said anything.

"—Way?" Derek was asking when she tuned back in. "What?" she asked. "Which way?" They were at the entrance to the neighborhood, Lyle Woods Forest, and she relaxed as she quickly told him to head straight and turn right near the playground.

"Simon's idea isn't that bad actually," he said, and his bright eyes met hers. She felt her breath leave her lungs in a rush of air as her face warmed. "Royce is hounding you and Rae is basically stalking me; acting as boyfriend-girlfriend might just be what we need to shake them," Derek explained and Chloe sank lower in her seat.

How the hell was she supposed to tell she'd never _had _a boyfriend? Or kissed a boy? Or even been _asked _out? "Turn left, last house. Red roof," she said quickly and averted her face.

"We wouldn't have to do anything, of course," he added quietly, his cheeks and ears turning redder by the minute. It occurred to Chloe that maybe he'd never been asked out either. "I-I've never…" she trailed off, cheeks warming viciously.

Derek pulled into the driveway and parked the truck. He unbuckled himself and then her, tapping on the belt buckle with his big knuckles. "I won't make you do anything you aren't ready. We don't have to even talk or touch; we can just hang around each other."

"N-No, th-that's not what I m-meant. I meant I've n-never been a-asked out…ever," she explained hurriedly, her face heating up when he exhaled and a blast of minty breath hit her face. "That makes two of us. Girls don't exactly _flock _around me like they do Simon and Tori," he muttered.

"W-we could j-just hug a-and stuff," Chloe suggested shyly, sticking her hands under her thighs and sitting on them. She rocked slightly. "That doesn't sound that bad, now does it?" Derek said with a half-smile. A smile crept across her lips as tensions slipped away, washed away by his ease.

"No," she laughed, giggling really even though she wasn't the giggling type of girl, and shrieked suddenly as someone rapped on the window. Scrambling to sit up, out of Derek's lap, Chloe whipped around and saw her aunt's frowning face.

Dr. Lauren Fellows still wore her surgical scrubs and her reddish hair was escaping the bun she wore it in; she looked tired and grouchy.

"H-hi, A-Aunt Lauren," Chloe squeaked out, trying to figure out how to explain the bruise on her forearm and the supposed serial killer's son sitting in her driveway.

Aunt Lauren's frown deepened when her pale, ice blue eyes landed on Derek. "Who are you? Why is my daughter in your truck?" she hissed and Chloe shrank back. As much as she loved Aunt Lauren, she'd never, _ever _replace Mom. "My name is Derek, ma'am. She needed a ride home so I gave her one, ma'am," Derek said in a polite, neutral tone. Lauren's eyes narrowed. "And you just _gave _her one? Chloe," she said in a disapproving tone that made Chloe's stomach drop to her toes, "I thought I raised you better than this."

Anger bubbled up and Chloe nearly choked on it. "Dear God, what did you _do _to her?" Outrage rose up inside her and she let go. "He didn't do anything, Aunt Lauren. Some jerk at the party grabbed me; he rescued me. Took me home. Was a _complete _and _utter gentleman!_" she explained with spittle flying from her lips. Anger pounded through her veins, hot and fierce and making her eyes burn with tears.

She loved Aunt Lauren but, sometimes, the doctor could jump to conclusions and assume the worst of somebody. "Chloe," Derek whispered softly and his hand touched her back. She turned away from her awed aunt and wiped at her eyes, feeling so weak and angry.

"I-I'm so-sorry you had t-to see that," she apologized between gasping breaths, trying to calm down. "It's fine. We all lose our cool sometimes." Darkness flashed across his handsome face and she nearly pulled away from him because of it. It made her want to hide.

It was the darkness that Cain the serial killer radiated.


	3. Chapter 3

Play It Again

Three

When she slammed the door shut, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He watched Chloe bounce away, hair gleaming in the sunlight as she followed her mother inside, glancing back to give him a smile and a wave.

The blonde woman scowled at him, hauled Chloe inside, and shut the door. Resting his forehead on the steering wheel, he let his muscles relax. A curtain fluttered. Chloe's face peered out of a top window, smiling down at him. She waved before she vanished from sight, the curtain falling still.

Derek shifted gears and backed out of the driveway; he rolled down the windows to help bat away the dizziness that had taken over. He was sweating furiously and his hair stuck to the sides of his jaw. He glanced in the mirror. _Whose son _are _you? _

Clenching his jaw, he navigated his way out of Lyle Woods Forest and headed home; his music was still blasting Chloe's music. Some song by a country singer. Luke Bryan_. _He wasn't big on country but this song was so damn catchy that he started tapping to the tune as he turned down Grant Drive and down Picket Road.

He passed the normal hair salons, music stories and drugstores but turned into the parking lot of Andrew's Daring Donuts and parked. "Three dozen, right?" Andrew asked, smiling. His uncle always knew he ordered for the family. "Five sugar free, right?" Derek asked.

"Yes," laughed Andrew, handing the black-haired man the bag. His salt-and-peppering brown hair looked thin. Derek took the three boxes with thanks and then headed home.

oOo

The condo came alive with the smell of donuts.

Their dogs, Lucky and Josie, barked excitedly at Derek when he walked through the door.

Lucky was a fat Corgi that waddled around but it was amusing to see him running on his short, stubby legs, skidding on the hardwood floor. Josie, on the other hand, was a giant Boxer that could bowl someone over if she came at them fast enough.

Derek laughed and, carefully and deliberately, placed the boxes in the middle of the table before crouching down. The dogs licked at his face, tails thumping.

"Mutts," Tori said as she walked in, spiky hair half-crimped but then she saw the donuts and a smile broke out. "Thank you," she said, flipping open the lid. The smell wafted out and Simon popped in, followed by an older, silver-streaked-haired version of him.

"The powdered one are yours, Simon," Derek said, scooping up a hazelnut-chocolate one for himself before taking a bite. "So, what happened with you and Chloe?" Simon and Tori demanded, mouths full of donut goodness.

"I drove her home. She thanked me," Derek answered, taking another donut. This one had coconut on it. He bit into it as Simon said, "So you met her psycho aunt?"

Derek's brows furrowed. "I thought that—" Her mind shifted gears, churning, as he remembered what Tori had said. _The little bitch made Chloe's life a living hell! She dumped Chloe for Royce right after her mom died! _

"Oh. I thought that was her mom."

Tori shook her head. "Her mom died from cancer in about seventh grade," she explained, picking up a peanut butter donut and biting into it. Derek nodded. "Dad was so devastated that he…he killed himself. Lauren took her in but she's hardly home and very over protective."

He chewed this thoughtfully before he took his box up to his room, hearing Tori explaining to Kit about the party and Derek's butting in to save Chloe from the hands of Royce. He kicked open his bedroom door and headed in; the door slammed with the force of his elbow shutting it. Balancing the box, he kicked off his sneakers and flopped down on his bed.

His mind raced as he finished his second donut and worked onto the third. He absently nibbled on it as he thought and thought and thought. Suddenly, his phone vibrated and he wiped his hands on his jeans before picking it up.

**Chloe Saunders: Hey. **

He choked on the piece of donut in his mouth and hacked until his throat cleared. How the hell—

**Chloe Saunders: You weren't paying attention to me so I swiped your phone and put in my number. That way, if you wanted, we could text.**

Huh. He texted her back after a minute, another donut absently shoved into his mouth. _Derek Souza: And what have you decided? _His hands were shaking so he busied himself; he stripped down and, swiping his phone off the counter, entered his attached bathroom.

Raking his hands through his oily hair, he blasted music and let the water heat up. Hearing the buzz of his phone, he walked back nude and stared down at the text.

**Chloe Saunders: Yes. **

He let out a shaky breath and shoved back his long hair. _Derek Souza: I was thinking I had scared you off, _he wrote as he dipped his fingers under the faucet. It was piping hot. _Derek Souza: I'll be right back; I need to shower. _He clicked send and headed to the bathtub. The phone vibrated.

**Chloe Saunders: I didn't need to know when my boyfriend's in the shower but…I really don't mind the image. **

Derek stared at the text in surprise. **Chloe Saunders: Oh my god. That wasn't me. That was Nate. /. **He let a tiny smile play across his mouth before he answered. _Derek Souza: I didn't think you'd be that bold, Chloe. _Steam was clouding the room, sending tendrils of condensation streaking down the mirror, like it was crying.

He wiped away the fog and stared hard at his reflection. His face was pocketed with acne scars and his cheeks were inflamed with acne; what was it that the girls at school saw in him? _Probably the muscles, _he thought dryly. **Chloe Saunders: Tell Simon that his boyfriend might be found floating down a river tomorrow. **

He laughed out loud. _Derek Souza: Let me shower, Chloe. _He was just stepping into the shower when the phone vibrated. **Chloe Saunders: Bet you have a nice ass. **His face flamed. **Chloe Saunders: Oh my god. I'm changing my passcode so Nate can't text you inappropriate things. |||-_- **

_Well, _he thought as he sank into the tub, water sloshing up, _pseudo-dating Chloe Saunders is going to be interesting. _His phone buzzed and then rang.

He answered. "OH MY GOD! HE'S SO HOT!" shrieked a male voice. Nate. "Nate!" Chloe. Liz was laughing in the background. "I hate you," Chloe yelled and Derek imagined the cute pout on her face.

The call disconnected and he set his phone on the edge of the counter, keeping an eye on it in case she called him back.

_This is going to be hard. _


	4. Chapter 4

Play It Again

Four

Business at Charlie's was slow. A few couples and families came in around three but now, no one was there. Chloe sat at the counter, half-listening to the news report on the mounted TV.

"This place is boring," Nate whined from the kitchen as he bumped his hip to open the doors, balancing slices of Kari's pies.

"Shut up," she muttered, still pissed at him. Although she would've loved to see Derek's face when Nate screamed into the phone, she couldn't let go of her anger. "Are you _still _mad at me?" he asked, laying the counter with tiny saucers of slices.

He crouched down and unlocked the display cabinet; she kicked him lightly in the back. "Ow!" he yelped and spun on his heel to glower at her. "Jackass," she hissed as the bell chimed and loud, teenage laughter grated on her nerves.

Ignoring Nate wallowing in agony, Chloe hopped off her stool and headed to the full table. A quick glance told her jocks and cheerleaders. "Hey, Blondie, can we get some beers?" She pursed her lips at the main guy, who smirked and wrapped his arms around the buxom redhead. His jacket read _Brady. _

"I-I'm so-sorry," Chloe said slowly, "but we don't serve a-alcohol to m-minors." One of the guys yelled out, making her jump back. "That's a load of bullshit!" he spat and spittle flew from his mouth; the two girls in matching cheerleading uniforms giggled.

_Yeah, well, tough shit, _she thought as she pulled out her notepad and clicked her pen. "Wh-what can I—" The redhead waved her arm up and down, like she was flagging Chloe down. Grinding her molars, the waitress turned her attention to the other girl.

"Why do you talk like that?" she asked in a sharp tone, a sneer rising on her red, red mouth. She reminded Chloe of a harpy.

"H-Huh?" Blood pounded in Chloe's ears. "Are you slow?" The redhead snickered. "Do you ride the _long _bus? Or the short bus?" "Probably the kindergarten bus, Amber," laughed Brady and Chloe's stomach tightened into a knot. Her face felt hot and the backs of her eyes prickled as the redhead flicked her hair back and the guy kissed her on the teeth.

"W-what can I…" Chloe's voice cracked pitifully and the laughter got louder and louder. One of the three guys was red-faced, trying to hold in his laughter; the other was clutching his stomach, laughing hysterically. The girls laughed behind their fake-nails and fake eyelashes.

"Chloe?"

Someone touched her bicep and she turned her head, blinking hard to keep from crying. Worried green eyes met hers. The breath whooshed from her lungs. "I didn't know you worked…what's wrong?" Derek said. Chloe shook her head and managed a tiny smile that probably came out more as a grimace.

"Trolling the elementary school for girls?" barked out Brady and their laughter renewed, sharp and stabbing right in her tiny self esteem. Derek's lip curled in a snarl. "Go," Chloe whispered, shaking off his hand. He looked wounded for a split second. "I'll be right with you."

His jaw clenched, he walked to the lone table behind the booth and Chloe jotted down their snickered orders. "Will that be all?"

"Gimme a beer." Brady smirked at her as his eyes ran up and down her figure. "We do-don't s-ser-erve—" Chloe tried to tell him but he interrupted her. "Gimme a _beer_."

"I'll bring you some root beers," she told them firmly and, as she was leaving, something hit her butt. She froze, mouth open, embarrassment washing over her. The laughter that followed her was mocking. When she got to Derek, she allowed herself to tremble. "Chloe, sit." He took her hands and lead her into the seat; she was shaking.

She felt dizzy and light.

"What did they do?"

"N-not—" Her stutter came out full force when she lied.

Derek's shoulders hunched as his dark glower landed behind her. "They were making fun of you, weren't they? Being rude and unruly?"

She didn't want to tell him but she didn't feel comfortable with them around. She bit her lip and blinked away the hot tears. How pathetic she was, crying over a bunch of shitheads?

"One of them slapped you on the butt," he continued as his voice grew darker and darker, angrier and angrier. His eyes were shards of stained glass, alive and fiery with hot rage. "I'll set them straight."

She couldn't move.

"Chloe."

It was Nate, peering down at her, worry etched on his handsome face. Gone was his permanent goofy grin and humorous attitude; he was grim-faced and angry, serious. She felt a spike of fear when she turned back to Derek and his seat was empty.

"What's your problem?" Brady's voice was pitchy, high. Angry. She whipped around and saw Derek standing there, radiating anger. "Leave my girlfriend alone. _All _of you. Don't mock her, don't taunt her, don't _touch _her," Derek growled in a deadly tone. Chloe felt a wave of relief.

But then she saw Brady laugh and stand. He was a couple inches short than Derek but he was tense with anger and arrogance. He needed to be knocked down a few pegs. "And if I _don't_?" he spat in her boyfriend's face.

Something in Derek's eyes changed enough to make Brady falter, his eyes widening in fear. Terror washed across his face. "I'll _make _you." Derek's voice was a rumbling growl that made her squirm.

"D-Derek," she said quickly and scrambled out her seat. Amber sneered at Chloe as the tiny girl scrabbled forward and her hands wrapped around his taut bicep. His chin dipped down as he pinned the group with his glower. "F-freak," Brady spat but it lacked conviction.

"Plastic," Nate quipped and Chloe snorted a laugh. _Beware of the plastics. _"Let's get out of here," one of the guys said and he fled out of the doors, the two other girls following. The one who'd been holding in his laughter helped Amber out of her seat and Chloe saw she had on a shorts that could've been worn as a belt…or maybe a pair of panties. She looked like a pornstar.

Brady sneered and lurched at Chloe, making her yelp and scrabble back, behind Derek. "Freaks," he yelled as he all but ran out the door.

"Who wants ice cream?" Kari asked as she leaned in the kitchen window. Her big, grey eyes flickered from Chloe to Derek (and they doubled in size) and then to Nate.

"Okay, when did Chloe get a boyfriend?"

It was then that the blonde realized she was holding Derek's hand but he gave her fingers a squeeze, reassuring, and she didn't let go.

His hand was big and warm and it made her feel safe, feel tiny and protected, like a princess. "Ice cream's on me," Kari offered. Derek's lips tilted in a whisper of a smile.

He held her hand the entire way to the ice cream parlor.


	5. Chapter 5

Play It Again

Five

Things were progressing with Derek, despite her best attempts to keep things platonic and fake. He hung out at her house, normally when Aunt Lauren wasn't there breathing down his neck the entire time, and they just watch TV, or rent a new movie that she wanted to see.

When they saw each other around town, she'd smile and her stomach would seize and he'd wave, a hint of a smile crossing his handsome, broad face. It was harder and harder not to fall for him, not to go crazy for his gentle side around animals or when he laughed as he three toys with the local dogs at the huge dog park.

She hated it with a passion. At school, they were polite and friends, dare she say it. He was nice to her, doting even. Was she special? He treated everyone like he didn't care but her and his closest friends and his two siblings. Was she so different?

She started taking better care of her appearance, getting up a little bit early to shower and comb out her plain hair, put on enough makeup to be tasteful and match her clothes with her jewelry.

But, today, she threw on some sweats, an oversized sweater that belonged to her dad, and her hair was up, showing off her swan-like neck. She didn't feel like dressing up and her depression was dark, like a fat, rainy cloud hanging over her as she glared at the calendar. _I miss you mom, _she thought quietly as she caught the bus and plunked down in the back, listening to the quiet.

She was one of the first on the bus and normally couldn't wait for the noise but now she was painfully aware of every sound, the rattling of the tires, the rain hitting the windows, the static on the radio, the whirring of the engine.

_It's been, what, five years? It never gets any easier. Dad isn't home much but I think it's because he can't stand being in the same house where you died, seeing the living room and expecting you to be sitting there, curled up and sewing those beanies I love. Or making dinner. Or in the backyard, planting tulips. _

"Chloe?" Her head jerked up as her chin flew out of her hand. Glittering green eyes stared down at her and she wondered if he'd ever lost anyone like she did. _I don't think Aunt Lauren has ever forgiven dad, to be honest. In her eyes, he should've died, not you. You were just beginning motherhood. _

"What?" Her voice came out raspy and his eyebrows shot down, a crease in the middle as he swung down beside her, dropping his backpack at their feet. He was damp with rain, his navy t-shirt sticking to his skin, droplets gleaming on his skin.

_It wasn't fair. Aunt Lauren hates him. And she thinks of me as you, considering our striking resemblance. I miss you, a lot. Not a day passes without you crossing my mind. _

"Are you okay?" He pushed back his bangs, out of his face, and he looked like a prince out of a fairy tale, the kind her mom used to read. She shrugged absently and let her fingers curl around her pendant, feeling the cool metal bite. It was the only comfort.

_It's hard, hearing my friends complain about parents when you're gone and dad's not here anymore and it's just me and Aunt Lauren, who, try as she might, will _never _match up to you, no matter how hard she tries. She still sees me as the scared little girl crying for mommy days after the funeral. I've raised myself. I'm not socially awkward; I have friends, I make good choices. _

"Hey, what's wrong? You're crying," he said and it was then that she recognized that familiar burn in the back of her eyes, her cheeks coated with sticky tears. "Nothing." She glanced up as some freshmen and juniors climbed on and noise filled the buss.

"Nothing at all," she lied as she slipped in her headphones to drown him out and watched the rain slip down the mirror, tear trails.

_But maybe it's not enough. _

oOo

It was hard to concentrate—she couldn't do any of her work and nearly broke down during her Biology test during second bell. It was like the cloud was swallowing her whole, drowning her, pressing down and clamping hard on her head like a vice, growing tighter and tighter until she thought her head would pop right out of her neck.

"Chloe Saunders," crackled a voice on the intercom that she recognized as the receptionist in the office. Heads snapped to her. Her face flamed viciously. "Please come down to the office."

_Who is it? It can't be Dad or Aunt Lauren, _she thought to herself as she rose from her seat and headed for the door; a million eyes followed her. Sweat slicked her skin as her mind began to race, running through scenario after scenario, each worse than the previous. Dad dead. Aunt Lauren gone. Aunt Lauren dead. The house burned down.

She remembered when her mom died. She remembered being called into the office, the solemn face of her ashen-skinned aunt making her panic, and her dad's tired, tear-streaked one making her worry. "Chloe," he had begun but Aunt Lauren shouldered passed him and he crumbled into tears, unable to go on. "Your mother—" Everything else she had said was swallowed by water filling up Chloe's ears. She couldn't breathe.

"Chloe?" It was a man who looked strikingly like her mother, with a crooked nose and stained green flannel shirt layered under his black rain coat; a shadow of stubble crawled over his mouth. "Who are you?" she squeaked, backing up.

The receptionist's fingers flew over the keyboard and the sound was deafening, louder than the bong of the clock in the front hall. "My name is Ben Fellows," he said slowly, raising his hands up in the universal "I surrender" sign. She bit her tongue. "And?" Her words were weak and tiny.

"I wanted to see my sister's daughter." The smile he gave her nearly made her burst into tears. It looked exactly like her mother's.

oOo

"So he just _showed up_?" Aunt Lauren hissed, drumming the table with her nails, a scowl set across her thin face. Ben Fellows had taken Chloe home, to her Aunt, without ever asking how to get to the house. It was like he'd lived there all his life; it was pretty creepy.

Chloe picked at the fraying ends of her sweatshirt sleeves, pointedly ignoring her Aunt's outrage. Maybe if she ignored it, it would go away.

"Lauren?"

Ben peeked in and gave them a smile that could've rivaled an adorable puppy; a lock of curly hair fell across his sunburned forehead. "I don't see why you showed up," Aunt Lauren huffed, crossing her arms. A look of irritation flashed across Ben's kind face as he stepped into the room. "I came to see Chloe," he said.

"After _fifteen _years!" spat the doctor. Chloe watched with a tightening, anxious stomach as they grew louder and louder, shouting accusation after accusation. "Stop, p-pl-please," she whispered as she wrung her hands, fear scaling up her spine with icy tendrils.

"Stop arguing!" she begged, close to tears but they couldn't hear her over their screaming match.

"You _never _visited!" Aunt Lauren snarled, wisps of hair escaping her ponytail. "_Excuse me _if I wanted to be healthy before I came to see Chloe. I've been struggling—" Ben argued, a dark look crossing his face. "—Always me, me, me!" Aunt Lauren snapped, "no wonder Jennifer cut off all ties!"

"Stop arguing!" Chloe sobbed, bursting into tears. The siblings froze as someone pounded on the door; thunder boomed in a massive way and lighting lit up the house.

"You stay here," Aunt Lauren said sharply, glowering at Ben and Chloe, but her brother scowled and bit out, "No, _I'll _get it." Chloe shoved passed both of them and wiped her wet cheeks. "I will. _You _two stay here."

The house was deathly quiet and desolate as she headed for the parlor leading to the front door. Rain pelted and bellowed the house as it rained violently; actually, according to the news report this morning, it was a tropical storm. All TVs were off and most of the lights; shadows stretched far across the ground and sent chills up her spine.

Even on her tiptoes, she couldn't see out the peephole so she let out a rather girly scream when she saw him standing there. His t-shirt was soaked and so were his dark jeans, clinging to his muscular physique; his hair was plastered down against his sharp eyes.

"Hi."

It was Derek, standing on her friggin doorstep, in the middle of a friggin tropical storm, holding a bouquet of tiger lilies, which, oddly enough, were her favorite flower.

"What—" she began but he interrupted her with, "Can I come in? The rain isn't letting up and the roads are closed."

And that's how she found herself on Friday, handing towels to Derek friggin Souza, sitting on her couch, with her long-lost-but-found uncle Ben and pissy Aunt Lauren on the anniversary of her mother's death.

This would be interesting.


	6. Chapter 6

Play It Again

Six

Chloe set the cups on the table and watched everyone take one. "I think my dad has some old clothes that he left that you can borrow," she offered quietly to Derek as he shivered in his cold, wet clothes. His eyebrows rose in surprise and disappeared behind his overgrown bangs. "Thanks," he said and rose, all six-foot-five feet of him, towering above everyone.

Lauren made a tsking sound as she turned her face away. "I have to call Danielle," Ben muttered, patting his pockets before fishing out a Samsung Galaxy. It was then that she noticed the ring on his finger and an anger burned in her chest. Why is it he could have a wife and yet her father couldn't?

"Lead the way, Chloe," Derek mused, taking her attention away from her uncle. Face burning, she headed for the stairs, painfully aware of his presence behind her. "My dad's rather small compared to you," she said to fill the silence as they climbed the steps. "But I'm sure I can find some stuff from when…when my mom was still alive. He was pretty lazy then. Got big." She managed a half-hearted grin as she flicked the light on in her dad's untouched bedroom.

Papers were strewn across his desk and boxes teetered dangerous in the corner, filled with her mother's things. All of it was marked _donate. _Something acidic burned in her belly as she rifled through her dad's musty clothes and pulled out a pair of sweats and a flannel sweatshirt. "He's got so-socks and b-bo-oxers if you n-need them," she squeaked and mortification lit up inside her as Derek nodded and his cheeks turned red too.

"Chloe?" he questioned as she reached the doorway, her back to him. Something wet plopped to the carpet below. "Thanks. I mean it. Do you have a phone, by the way, that I could borrow? Mine's in the car."

"Yeah." Heat crept through her as she caught a glimpse of his golden, muscular physique. She nearly barreled into Lauren on the way back downstairs and her aunt's bony fingers dug into her arm hard. "What is _this_?" hissed her aunt, a scowl deepening the lines of her face.

"W-what?" Chloe squeaked. "Ben, that boy," spat her aunt. A fire licked at the girl's insides.

Ever since her mom had died, Lauren had been trying to shield her from everything from boys to mtv's movies. Why hadn't she told Chloe about her mother's brother? Were there other relatives Chloe didn't know about? What _else _was she hiding?

The tip of her tongue pressed against her teeth, the blonde straightened her back and said, firmly, "I think I should ask _you _that." Lauren's nostrils flared as she whispered, fiercely, "I have _nothing _to say—"

"You _kept _him from me!" Chloe burst out shrilly. Her insides were a jumbled mess of anger and pain and the world was blurry with hot tears. "You kept my uncle form me for _fifteen years_." She was half aware of Ben's curly hair in the doorway to the family room and all too aware of Derek standing behind her. "You never told her about me?" Ben asked softly.

"Why would I? You were in and out of rehab!" snapped Lauren, her chin quivering as she set her shoulders and crossed her arms. She looked like a bitter old woman in the flickering shadows, cold eyes cast away. A hand touched Chloe's back and she looked behind her to see Derek, wearing her dad's old NYU sweatshirt and a pair of holy sweats, his damp hair sticking to his reddened cheeks.

She blinked hard as tears filled and filled and fell, sliding one after the next. "Why do you have to ruin everything?" she managed to choke out and the hand whipped out, too fast for her to track, and the sharp sting in her cheek sent her stumbling backwards, hitting the ground.

"_Everything _I've done was for _you_!" Lauren spat, stabbing a finger in her face. Chloe shrank back but Derek's legs were in the way; they pressed against her head and shoulders, acting as anchors to hold her up. The side of her face throbbed as Ben intercepted them. "Lauren!" he yelled and his face flushed with rage.

Chloe stumbled to her feet as the lights flickered and then went out. She screamed despite herself and crouched down, huddling. "Chloe?" A puff of warm breath dampened her ear as a hand touched her cheek, fingers probing gently.

"It's okay," the voice said firmly as a hand curled around her arm and yanked her off balance. Instead of the floor, she fell into a warm chest. She wasn't really even aware that she'd been crying like a giant weenie; her face felt wet against his sweatshirt.

"Damn it," grumbled Lauren as she possibly felt her way around. Chloe listened to the sounds of harsh rain, the thunder roaring quietly, the drum of the man's heartbeat in her ear. "Derek?" she whispered quietly, balancing on her knees. Hands settled to her hips, steadying her. She squinted into the thick, thick darkness and caught a glimpse of his face, maybe too close to hers, his eyes focused on hers like he could see as clear as day.

"Storms scare you?" he murmured, pressed his mouth against her head. She bit her lip and debated on telling him. "Just today," she said quietly, feeling her throat close up. He didn't press, just laid a heavy hand on her head and began to stroke her hair. "My mom…" she started and stopped when the tears filled her eyes.

"You don't—"

"I need to."

A deep breath.

"My m-mom was killed, to-today, when I was t-ten. She was dri-driving home, in a storm, to pi-pick up my flute. I left it a-at home." He shifted them so her back was against his chest. Stroked her hair. His warmth crawled through her as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"S-she got hit, t-boned by a truck driver, an-and died on the impact." She bit her lip. "I-it's my fault," she whispered. "No," Derek growled suddenly, startling her. "It's not. It wasn't anybody's."

"The driver was drunk," Ben said quietly, in a thin voice. Chloe reached out blindly and felt her fingers brush his face, poking him in the mouth. He laughed but it sounded weak and raspy, like he'd been crying. "It's okay," she murmured, blinking away the tears that filled her vision. A flash of lightning illuminated her uncle's figure: slumped against the wall, head bowed like he was ashamed; something dripped from his cheeks. "I'm so glad I met you," he whispered back and held her hand, squeezing.

"Jennifer would've been proud of you," he choked out as he crawled closer, on his hands and knees, awkwardly. He cried like a baby as he hugged her knees. She stroked his hair.

And then the lights cut on.

"Chloe?"

Her breath caught.

"Dad?"


End file.
